


Lay Down Your Arms

by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeousnerd/pseuds/Gorgeous%20Nerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the best deal Sam can get.  And so, he says the word Lucifer wants to hear.  The word Dean had known Sam would say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Down Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Sam POV story for some of the events of 5x04. As such, it's a little dark. This was originally posted for Three Weeks For Dreamwidth [here](http://firmament.dreamwidth.org/23223.html), and some additional notes can be found [here](http://gorgeousnerd.dreamwidth.org/107515.html) (SPOILERS through 5x20).

Sam enters an abandoned house in Detroit and stands in front of Lucifer. The sight of Nick's slightly worn body sends something near relief through Sam's body. Not for what he's about to do - how could anyone _want_ it - but it's the first time he's seen anyone in months who understands.

"If I do this," he says, "how much will I see?"

Lucifer smiles, understanding. "As little as possible."

It's his last option. Despite months of looking, he didn't have the Colt, and Dean has the knife. Bobby shared his last idea weeks past, and Sam stopped visiting not long after. The endless jobs, the demons mocking him, coercing him…he can't take it anymore.

And even though he know it's too late, he still called the last number of Dean's he knew. It was disconnected.

Still, he asks, "How little?"

"I won't lie to you, Sam. I can't keep you under for all of it. When a moment's important, you will be there."

It's the best deal Sam can get. And so, he says the word Lucifer wants to hear. The word Dean had known Sam would say.

Lucifer's as good as his word. For years, all of Sam's awareness is flashes: destroyed cities, mobs, the occasional peaceful patch of Earth. The patches become more plentiful as time progresses, and Sam experiences the closest thing to peace he's ever known.

Until Lucifer speaks to him again.

_You'll be awake for this._

_For what?_ Sam replies.

_I'm truly sorry,_ Lucifer says, _but I can't stop it._

The world focuses.

If Sam could feel, he isn't sure what emotion would appear at the sight of Dean standing in front of him - _them_ \- with the Colt in hand. Anger. Fear. Resignment, maybe.

Dean fires.

Sam senses the impact of the bullet against what was once his body. It hits the forehead, but such was the rightness of Lucifer and Sam that their head doesn't budge. They're a force far greater than a gun.

Dean drops his hand. It isn't until his face slackens that Sam realizes nothing short of pure hatred was etched there moments before. The defeated man in front of him is the Dean of his past, with a few more years and a couple extra scars.

Sam doesn't react. He can't.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer said aloud, but not for Dean's benefit.

A mortal wouldn't see Lucifer's motions, but Sam is mortal no more. He sees the way Lucifer bends existence to appear on Dean's other side, the compensations for the speed used to grab Dean, the holding back when Dean is under foot.

Dean stares at nothing for a moment, wide-eyed.

A snap, and Dean's body goes limp.

Sam thinks it's over. But before a heartbeat passes, Lucifer turns, and Dean is standing in front of them. Sam wonders if he missed something, until he sees what Lucifer sees: this is a Dean not from their time.

_No_, he thinks.

"Oh," Lucifer says, as if he's surprised. "Hello, Dean."

Sam half-wonders if he's seeing correctly. This Dean's animated, horrified. He isn't the echo of what Sam feels now; he's the mirror of what Sam used to feel.

Until now, he didn't know he still _could_ feel.

"Well, go ahead," Dean says, setting his jaw as lightning flashes around him. "Kill me."

"Kill you? Don't you think that'd be a little...redundant?" Lucifer's voice sounds hollow to Sam's ears. Flat.

_You knew this would happen_, Sam thinks at Lucifer. It's not a question.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer says. "It must be painful, speaking to me in this shape."

At the same time, for Sam's benefit, he thinks, _I did. This is an important moment._

Sam sees what Lucifer sees, even as Lucifer shares his story with Dean. He sees different roads: he and Dean together, and the two apart. What used to be Dean, worn by a more confident and striking angel, and himself, shadowed by uncertainty and doubt. Sam sees the path this Dean is on, and how this moment won't exist once he goes back to his time.

_So I won't exist anymore?_ Sam thinks.

_You are in the present, as always. This won't be the present anymore._

Sam wants to cry out to Dean. The violence of emotion startles even him, but Lucifer is prepared and keeps him in check.

_You won't remember this_, Lucifer says, in what Sam thinks is supposed to be a comforting way. _However things play out at the last is what you will experience._

"Goodbye," he says. "We'll meet again soon."

Sam knows the end is coming, but he rages nonetheless. He's a prisoner in his own body, of his own choosing, and he doesn't even get what he really wanted: to not exist.

_You will get your wish,_ Lucifer thinks. _Just not now._

Dean's vowing to kill Lucifer, and Sam wishes, with all his might, that he would succeed. But he knows, just as Lucifer knows, that it won't happen.

"Whatever details you alter, we will always end up here," Lucifer says. "I win."

The world flashes around Sam, and he cries out for Dean one last time.

-

The phone buzzes on the seat of the car. Sam picks it up.

"Dean," he says. "Please, give me--"

"You still want back in?"

Sam holds his breath. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I did, but..." Sam swallows. "Yes."

"Meet me at the bridge. We can talk."

Sam agrees, and the line goes dead.

He puts the phone back on the seat beside him, and stares at it longer than he should.

"Dean," he whispers.

He looks back toward the road, curls his fingers tighter around the steering wheel, and gives the car more gas.


End file.
